


This is Not a Scene From a Hitchcock Movie

by misura



Category: This Means War (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tuck thinks 'Franklin' is just the thing to name his and Lauren's new pet dog. FDR disagrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Not a Scene From a Hitchcock Movie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eurydice72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydice72/gifts).



> the paintball scene may well have been one of my favorites of the movie, so when I saw your request, I couldn't resist writing you a small treat. I hope you'll like it!

"This hurts me," FDR said, for all the fat lot of good _that_ was going to do him - he'd watched _Titanic_ often enough to know that people in love really weren't overly concerned about hurting other people's feelings (or making sensible decisions in order to stay alive, for that matter). "In my _soul_."

He also knew Tuck well enough to know that this was, indeed, love with a capital L. Which was why he'd had both Tuck and Lauren placed on a list of Extremely Dangerous People Not Allowed To Leave The Country, just until he (well, some of the CIA's finest) had fully covered the entire range of Potentially Lethal Vacation Disasters, And How To Make Sure Your Friend And His Girlfriend Survive Them, 100% Guaranteed. (Currently, they were up to the E - Earthquake, and it wasn't looking like they'd be moving on to F - (Forest) Fire any time soon.)

"Don't be silly," Tuck said, apparently under the impression that FDR had been the one to walk around with an absolute idiot grin for three days after he'd been proposed marriage to. "It's a perfectly good name. Isn't it, Franklin?"

(For the record, there had been _plenty_ of people proposing marriage to FDR. Women, mostly, and quite sober and hot ones, too. He'd responded to said proposals very sensibly, i.e. by pretending he hadn't heard them and, if possible and/or desirable, faking his own death.)

Franklin produced a sound that sounded very much like a 'no' to FDR and wagged his tail.

"See? He doesn't like it."

Tuck scoffed. "Nonsense." Clearly, he didn't speak dog. "He likes it just fine. And why not? It's a perfectly good name, is Franklin."

 _It's_ my _name._ "Does _Lauren_ think it's a perfectly good name?"

A bit of a dirty trick, that, given that FDR knew Tuck had been down with a case of suspected poisoning that turned out to be the flu when he'd been supposed to take the Advanced Persuasive Techniques For Conversations With Agents From Allied Agencies course.

(Tuck, being a real pal that way, had faked his signature on the attendance sheet, and the course had been discontinued shortly afterwards so.)

"Yes, she does," Tuck said, which would have been a perfectly good shutdown - sorry, bub, no room for persuasive arguing here, except that then he spoilt it by adding: "I'm sure."

"So you don't know." Usually, this would be the moment when FDR'd be planning a perfect date.

In Lauren's case, unfortunately, he'd already been there, done that, and was about to have a dog named after him for his trouble. Which made this probably the first time he regretted not attending the Staying Intimate Without Getting Intimate workshop Tuck had.

(Attendance had been entirely voluntarily, and FDR had felt at the time that it would have been an utter waste of time to acquire a completely undesirable skill. He'd still asked Tuck to write his name down on the list of participants, of course. It was always good to appear keen on expanding your horizons.)

"I'm sure," Tuck repeated, which was a clear sign of weakness.

Ten more minutes and FDR might have had him, except that that was when Lauren showed up, looking like a woman who was deeply in love and in the process of picking out curtains in her head.

_She's not looking at me. This is not scary. I don't need to fake a family emergency to get out of here. I don't. I'm fine._

_Deep breath. Slow and steady does it._

"Lauren! Hi!" _Does my voice sound squeaky? It_ sounded _like it sounded squeaky to me._ He cleared his throat and tried to think of something soothing. _Three naked stewardesses in my swimming pool. Four naked stewardesses in my swimming pool. Five naked stewardesses in my -_

Tuck stepped on his foot and gave him a Significant Look.

FDR looked back in a way that said: _That better not have left an imprint on my new shoes, buddy_ and also _Thanks_ because in moments of crisis, it was good to have Tuck still there, by his side. Still his best friend, after everything that had happened.

"Hi," FDR said, sticking out his hand. Tuck coughed. "Lauren."

"Hi." She smiled at him. _She doesn't mean it that way!_ and he wasn't sure if he should find it reassuring or disappointing that that didn't hurt more. (Well, no, he did know. He should definitely find it reassuring. So she'd picked Tuck, so good for her - and good for FDR, too, probably. He just wasn't meant to be a one-woman type of guy, and this way, at least nobody'd gotten hurt.)

"Lauren," Tuck said, and had FDR just thought she'd smiled at him? It wasn't anything compared to the look she turned on Tuck - it was kind of gooey, really. Icky. Movie-style romantic.

_If my life is going to turn into a movie, I'd rather make it an action-comedy than a rom-com, please. Or something sci-fi, maybe. With lasers. And hot women._

"Hey, honey." They kissed. That, too, was kind of gooey, icky and movie-style romantic.

FDR wondered where he might get a bucket of popcorn from on short notice. There was a movie theater about three blocks from here, but it probably wasn't open yet.

"I got us a dog," Tuck said, and FDR thought: _You sneaky sneak_ , because this way, Lauren would inspect the dog first, get attached to it, ask for its name and then, bam! Franklin the dog, mission accomplished.

 _Nice try, buddy._ "Yeah," he said. "We were just talking about a good name."

Tuck gave him a dirty look. FDR grinned back at him while Lauren was busy cooing over the dog.

"Bubbles," Lauren said.

Bubbles - _Bubbles?_ barked once and wagged his tail.

"Bubbles?" Tuck asked. His face reminded FDR of that time in Bangladesh, when he'd asked _Pants?_ in just that tone of voice.

"Well, we can't call her Alfred," Lauren said. "Obviously."

 _It's a girl. The dog is a girl._ "Or Franklin. Obviously."

"Frankie?" Tuck suggested weakly.

"I think she likes 'Bubbles'." _I think_ I _like Bubbles. A lot more than Frankie._

"We could always get her a boyfriend and name _him_ Franklin," Lauren said. "I mean, if that's the name you guys settled on."

"Excellent idea," Tuck said.

 _I hate you, too,_ FDR thought.


End file.
